Sweet Dreams

Sweet Dreams

by helicase

Category: Halo

Genre: Hurt-Comfort

Language: English

Status: Completed

Published: 2010-10-26 02:18:20

Updated: 2010-10-26 02:18:20

Packaged: 2016-04-26 23:49:29

Rating: T

Chapters : 1

Words: 812

Publisher: www.fanfiction.net

Summary: A brief self-reflection of the Rookie - alone in a Covenant
occupied city, and all he can think of is catnaps.

Sweet Dreams
Sweet Dreams

■jk" ■jk" ■jk"

><p>Summary: The brief self-reflection of the Rookie - alone in a
Covenant occupied city, and all he can think of is catnaps. <p>

■jk" "jk" ■jk"

><p>Notes: I am so bored right now. Supposed to be doing my German
project; don't give an FF . So there. <p>

■jk" ■jk" ■jk"

><p>Romeo, being the asshat that he is, constantly complained about
Rookie's slumber habits. At first it got under the younger OSTD ' s
skin - until he learned to just ignore the other Marine. Now that
Romeo is kicking him awake with the fond call of 'Wake up.
Buttercup!', Rookie can't help but scowl. His momentary annoyance is
forgotten in the events that follow, and he does not remember it
again until he is aiming at enemy Brutes with an alien sniper
rifle . <p>

One moment, he's a lethal death-machine out for justice on behalf of
New Mombasa and Earth and Humanity - the next, he's a yawning wreck.
The weariness plows out of nowhere, hitting him like a train and
flattening him until he's reclining up against the concrete, yawn
after yawn hitting him in quick succession. He can't help it - Rookie
loves to sleep.

He catches naps where ever he can, in between drops and missions and

when everyone else is taking breaks - he sleeps. It's a lovely thing
that cuts him off from this hideous reality - no Covenant, no team
members to get ripped apart, no fights, no weapons, no battlefields.
New Jerusalem never happened in his mind. Harvest, Reach, the whole
damn war doesn't exist up there. Just himself when he has dreams and,
more often, no dreams at all. It's a relief, and a burden, knowing
that he has to go back to reality in just a few short
minutes .

Rookie, however, never lets his sleeping habits interfere with his
duty. He's rigid and extremely disciplined in battle, never asking
for a break, never slipping away for a illicit affair with a pillow.
This is why his sudden sleepiness is alarming - it is completely
unusual. The ODST pulls himself together, finishes sniping, and moves
further into the bowels of a ruined New Mombasa.

He can sleep when the job is done. But when is the job ever done?
When? When does the war end, when does he get to go home to Luna,
greet people who are dead, smile at those long gone? And then Rookie
realizes the price for his slumber - life goes on while he is asleep,
missing it all. He can't stop himself from it, but he wishes he
could. Can he? No, no. It is what it is. And another thing - the job
is never done. Even if the war is won, there will always be someone
new to fight, some threat to quell. Danger is great for Humans - it
comes from all directions, from every availible outlet, as if the
universe is dead set against human existence.

Did the Forerunners have to put up with this bullshit? Probably,
Rookie muses. He's still moving, deeper and deeper, looking for clues
- anything, anything at all! - to point him in the right direction.

He finds nothing save a helmet, a ruined sniper rifle, some other
meaningless objects and a few hazy-sounding COMM transmissions. But
somehow he pieces it all together, taking as many completely random
guesses as meaningless ones. Success is bittersweet; New Mombasa is
glassed as Dare and his ODST team escape into space with a valuable
asset. The mega city is reduced to less than ashes at the hands of
Humanity's worst enemy so far. Not surprisingly, it hurts.

Rookie isn't from Earth, but he recognizes the importance of it. And
for some reason, the night he spent traisping around on New Mombasa's
faintly illuminated and ultimately beautiful yet ruined streets makes
him feel a dedication to it. He's taken cover behind its buildings
and fought in its intersections, threw grenades and battled aliens
and _won_.

He's leaving it, and it makes the Marine feel like he's betraying
something less like a city and more like a person. Something behind
his breastbone that's right below his lungs but not quite his stomach
beats with painful throbs. It might be his heart, but he never paid
attention in Health class. Rookie licks dry lips as his eyes scan
over the beautiful and deserted buildings one last time before he
retreats inside the Phantom.

He can sleep for now, but tomorrow he'll have to fight again. And the
day after that, and the day after that. There was a certain thrill
and a certain revenge in the thought, but this war was no picnic.
Humanity has a way to go - after all, when the war is over, everyone
could have sweet dreams again. Even Rookie.

><p>hnnngh I'm wasting so much time.<p>

End
f ile .